Father's Day
by SnubNosedSilhouette
Summary: "Do-" Rory seemed to reconsider, then barreled ahead anyway. "This is a silly question, but, do you have a dad, River?"
1. Chapter 1

A/N: You can thank my penny-pinching husband for this. In lieu of upgrading our cable to include BBC America (which would mean less shoe and makeup money for me every month - a girl must prioritize) he elected to buy a season pass to Doctor Who on iTunes. This meant that I couldn't watch the Season 7 premiere with the rest of the Western World, which in turn led to a rewatch of the first two episodes of Season 6 on Saturday night. Between that and a saved prompt for a Father's Day fic featuring Rory and River, this was born.

And yes, still working on the last chapter of "Night and the Doctor." It's coming, I promise.

Cheers!

Father's Day

It had been two months. Two months since they'd arrived in 1969, two months since Amy had shot at the little girl in the astronaut suit, and two months since she'd realized that her life was beginning to come full circle.

Her parents had no idea.

She'd known that for awhile now, of course. It had been some time, by her estimate, since they had known who she was, and by extension, who they were. The longstanding nature of their ignorance didn't mean it hurt less, just that she had to try a little harder not to inadvertently cause a paradox.

Days like today were harder, but she still chose not to ignore them.

"Hello, Rory."

He turned around, clearly startled at hearing her voice – any voice – alongside him as he walked down a deserted highway toward a still-distant spot of civilization. She was surprised he hadn't heard the car as it had approached. River spent a moment appreciating the kindness behind the smile that stretched across his face when he saw her. He was covered in red dust, his hair was bleached from prolonged exposure to the sun, and his fair skin had long since been burned and tanned into a shade much darker than the one she was most familiar with. A canteen hung heavily from his belt, the only sign that he wasn't as lost as he looked.

"River! I didn't - I mean, how did you find me? I thought we weren't-"

"Supposed to contact each other. Yes, I know." She smiled one of her more enigmatic smiles (oh yes, she knew exactly how to use those smiles. How could she not?) and held a small duffel bag out the window. "Care for a shower and a shave?"

* * *

Contrary to expectations, she didn't really have a plan. She hadn't missed a Father's Day yet, though, and was determined not to break that streak even if they were supposed to be running for their lives and investigating the Silence across the empty spaces of America. So she'd packed a razor and a clean change of clothes for him, and planned to wing it from there.

Still, now that they were safely ensconced in a hotel room in the middle of a tiny town in southern New Mexico and he was getting cleaned up, she had no idea what to do next. They'd gone mini golfing last year, but that had been back when he'd known he was her dad and had been amenable to what passed for normal father/daughter activities as a Father's Day treat - partly because he did have an appreciation for irony, and partially because it made them both feel a bit better to have a few of those memories, albeit several decades late on her part.

That wouldn't work now.

Now they had a tiny, dusty town; a dingy hotel room that had seen better days - likely in the middle of the Great Depression; and a vast, hot desert. As Father's Days went, it wasn't shaping up to be a great one.

"Thank you," he said, emerging from the bathroom wearing the clean shirt and shorts she'd brought, and rubbing his still-damp hair with a towel. "I was beginning to forget what it felt like to be clean."

"Anytime," she offered limply. "So, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know, running from the FBI, which is soft-of pretending to chase us. Running from the Silence, which actually is. Sleeping under what passes for shrubbery in this godforsaken corner of the planet. Same old, same old."

That garnered an actual smile. "You should really consider a career change – does the tourism industry know about your way with words?"

He laughed. It was a short laugh, and it was tinged with bitterness, but it was still a laugh. Her heart swelled.

"Where have you been? I thought the Doctor wanted you to stay nearer the East Cost than this."

"Oh, you know me. Never really been one for following directions." She was suddenly overwhelmed by the memory of Rory, aged fifteen, ranting at Mels for skipping detention for the third time in a week. "_Why can't you ever just do as you're told?"_he'd asked, and she'd been so tempted to tell him to stop acting like her dad. Except that he was. He'd always been.

Rory shook his head, but said nothing. It was to be expected. To him, she was still the enigmatic Dr. River Song - she wasn't even really human in his eyes. She knew that. She hated it. Back when they'd been in that warehouse in Florida (had it only been last month?) she'd told him her deepest secret: that she knew her (metaphorical, though possibly also literal – the thought had occurred to her) death would come on the day the Doctor no longer knew who she was. She'd made herself completely vulnerable in that moment to the one man she knew she could trust with anything - her father - and he hadn't even known why. It hurt then, and it still hurt now.

"Have you seen him recently?" Rory asked, and it took River a moment to realize that he was talking about the Doctor.

"Hm? No, not since we all split up. I think Canton was planning to keep him somewhere safe, near the TARDIS."

"Wouldn't that require putting him in prison? I thought they were keeping the TARDIS at Area 51." Rory settled down next to her on the bed.

She smiled fondly, "In handcuffs, no doubt. Bless."

"So what are you doing here, River?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Obviously, the truth was out. It usually was, come to think of it. She didn't feel like making up something outlandish, though, not today. "I thought you might want some company, and I was in the neighborhood." Well, it was the truth, if a highly edited version.

He looked at her then, cocking his head as if considering whether or not to believe her. "Did you just come from Amy, then?"

Her brow furrowed as she tried to follow his line of thought. "No, why?"

"Well, I just figured that you would have stopped to see her, and she would have told you that we split up a couple weeks back. Otherwise how would you have known I needed company?"

_Think fast, River_. "I have my ways." That was the thing about being known as an enigmatic woman full of secrets – you could get away with crap explanations fairly frequently and everyone would just assume you were avoiding history-altering spoilers.

Rory nodded slowly. "Will you go see her after this?"

"Amy? Of course." Actually, a visit to her mother hadn't been on her 'to do' list, but it could be. "Any particular reason?"

"I'd just like to know she's safe. It was her idea to split up so they couldn't track us easily, and I've had second, third, and forty-fifth thoughts ever since."

River's heart swelled. She knew what was coming for her parents – she'd lived through that and would rather not think too deeply on the subject – but _this_ was love uncomplicated by everything that was coming for them. Rory loved Amy, worried about her constantly, and that was something that would never change.

"Of course. Anything you'd like me to tell her?"

"Just that I'm fine and that I miss her. Or, you know, add something else that sounds romantic. I've never been very good at that sort of thing."

She laughed then, a real laugh. "And what makes you think I am?"

"Well, you're just…_you_. I don't know. Aren't most women good at knowing the right thing to say?"

_Oh, Dad. I love you._ "I suppose we are. Yes, I'm sure I'll think of something appropriately romantic to tell Amy when I see her."

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments until a jaw-shattering yawn shook Rory from head to toe.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "It's been awhile since I had a good night's sleep."

"Would you like to take a nap here? We have the room until tomorrow." As Father's Day gifts went it wasn't much, but clearly Rory needed the rest more than he needed her company at the moment.

"Do you mind terribly?"

"Of course not. You take a rest and I'll see if I can't find us a hot meal."

* * *

She returned two hours later with a cardboard box full of some kind of gravy-covered meat and limp broccoli. Rory was still fast asleep, so she set the container down on the scratched bedside table and settled herself into the room's only chair. Just as she attempted to get comfortable for the tenth time, Rory began to stir.

"River? 'S that you?" he mumbled sleepily. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long. I brought food that you should probably eat now. I can't imagine that it will get less appetizing, but would rather not find out." She pointed at the box, and he squinted at it.

"What is that?"

"The girl told me meatloaf, but I wouldn't look too closely if I were you."

Rory dug in anyway, clearly famished. He considered her closely as he chewed. "So why didn't you go to see Amy first?"

"Why do you find it so hard to believe that I simply wanted to have a visit with you?" Frankly, at this point it was strange for her to be spending time with either of them without the Doctor present, but that wasn't the question he was asking.

"Because…well, you're both girls," she raised an eyebrow at that one. "And you both have a close connection to the Doctor. And…I don't know. I guess I never really thought you and I had much in common."

"You don't?" That was surprising.

"Come on, River. You carry guns and know everything and keep the Doctor on his toes. Most days, I'm lucky if I don't wind up dead."

"That's not all I am, you know, Rory. The parts you see – yes, I suppose I do come off quite a bit like that – but really, you just haven't gotten to know me very well yet. So, for the record-"

"Isn't this usually where you refuse to talk and cite 'spoilers'?"

"Yes, but I'm making an exception this time. You and I _do _have quite a bit in common."

"Such as?"

Her mind raced. What could she tell him that wouldn't give away more than it was safe for him to know at the moment? "Puzzles. We both like puzzles." Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "Not just the jigsaw kind, though that too, but working out how things fit together. You do it all the time as a nurse. You're better at diagnosis than some of the doctors you work with." He blushed and opened his mouth to respond. "No, I've seen you do it. It's true. You could have been a doctor yourself, except you like providing the level of care a nurse gets to give more than writing orders and looking at charts. You take great pride in keeping the people in your care comfortable, and that requires quite a lot of puzzle-solving."

"Particularly when one lives with Amy and the Doctor," he joked. She laughed again.

"Precisely. I'm the same way. I love archaeology even though the Doctor is right that it is a bit silly to study ruins when one can travel through time and see a civilization as it's actually being built. There's nothing to solve when you go about cheating the way he does, though – everything's just laid out right in front of you. Give me a mystery any day."

Rory cocked his head and opened his mouth twice to speak before actually committing to say what was on his mind. "If you don't mind my saying so, I've always thought that's what he's most attracted to about you. You're a puzzle, and he doesn't get many of those that can't be solved with a few quick words, cleverness, and a mad dash to the TARDIS at the end."

River blushed. Oh, she hoped Rory didn't remember the details of that comment when he finally knew that he was actually talking to his daughter about how her husband felt about her. Not that he was wrong, of course, but she knew he'd die of embarrassment.

"You're probably right."

"What's this?" he pulled slip of paper out of the takeaway box. "Happy Father's Day – is it Father's Day?"

River froze. When the girl at the diner had asked her if the meal was for her, she'd answered that it was for her dad. She'd hadn't even really thought before speaking, but it had seemed like such a minor slip that she hadn't given it a second thought.

"They must have mixed up my order with someone else's. Huh. Father's Day." Rory set the note down on the table and stared at it for a minute.

They sat in silence again, less comfortable this time.

"You know, the one thing that's been truly bizarre about the last few years – and by 'bizarre' I mean more so than aliens and time travel and becoming a plastic Roman for two millennia – has been the way no time has seemed to pass at all for our families. As far as my dad is concerned, I haven't been away from home for more than a week in seven years."

"Do you miss him?" This was getting into dangerous territory, but suddenly River didn't care.

"Sometimes. A lot, actually. You'd like my dad. Everyone likes my dad." Rory smiled at the memory, and River pictured her grandfather. Yes, everyone did like him. She'd even liked him when she was Mels, and she hadn't liked many adults back then.

"Do-" Rory seemed to reconsider, then barreled ahead with his question. "This is a silly question, but, do you have a dad, River?"

River choked on her own saliva, and Rory had to pound her back to help her catch her breath again.

"Yes – I mean, of course I do. Don't we all?" She hoped he'd drop it, but knew it wasn't likely.

"Is it something you don't want to talk about?"

She took a deep breath. This was it, her get-out-of-jail-in-the-form-of-awkward-questions card.

"No, it's fine. I just wasn't expecting the question is all."

"Can I ask, what's he like?"

She paused. Again, so many ways to answer, most of which would give too much away. "He's…he's a good man. The most loyal man I've ever met. Brave, but not showy. He – he's always taken great care of me, even when I wasn't making things easy on him." She suddenly found that tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Is he-" Rory wasn't going to finish the sentence, so she did it for him.

"Dead? Oh no. He just hasn't seen me in a long time is all." Before Rory could parse her phrasing, she barreled forward. "I suppose we all think our fathers hang the stars when we're young, but it's only the truly exceptional ones who keep us thinking it when we're grown. That's what my dad is like."

Rory nodded.

This time, neither one broke the silence.

* * *

Several hours later, Rory was once again fast asleep. River had decided discretion was the better part of valor, and warned him that she'd likely be gone before he woke up. She had to add a trip to see Amy to her itinerary before she headed back to New York.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad," she whispered as she shut the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I would like to extend sincere thanks to everyone who read, favorited, and commented on the first chapter of "Father's Day." Seriously, I could not have been more blown away by your kindness. I would also like to extend a special thank you to AllyrienDM on AO3 who suggested the premise for this follow-up. I hadn't planned to write it, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

* * *

Their celebration had lasted long into the night.

Amy's bottle of wine (which had turned into two, then three before Rory finally cut them off) had long since been finished, and it had been a solid fifteen minutes since anyone had spoken. Considering the rapid-fire nature of Amy and Rory's questions and River's answers earlier in the evening (not to mention the impromptu dance party which seemed to start again every time a new glass was poured) such an extended silence was highly suspect.

"I think she's passed out," River said, turning to Rory, who was stretched out on the grass, looking at the stars.

"Yeah, about ten minutes ago. I was just thinking about taking her up to bed, except I'm not sure I can move myself."

River smiled. "I'll help."

Together, the two of them managed to get Amy upright and conscious enough to stumble up the stairs, arm flung over Rory's shoulder with River spotting both of them from behind. After depositing his wife safely on the bed and positioning the dustbin next to her side in case she needed it at some point in what remained of the night, Rory crept back out into the hallway where River was waiting.

"I should go," she said softly. "Technically I'm supposed to be on my best behavior until the parole board meets next week." She made a face as if to imply that the prospect of spending a week not breaking out of her cell was more distasteful than spending several more years (more or less) in it.

Rory considered his daughter for a moment. It had been awhile since he'd last seen her at Area 52, and if he guessed correctly this was the oldest version of her he'd ever met. Amy had told him about the Byzantium, and if they really were back-to-front that meant this River was much, much older than even the first one he'd met back when he was a Roman and she was impersonating Cleopatra.

"Why did you come here tonight, River?" he asked softly. "I know it wasn't to tell us that the Doctor is still alive. That's what it turned into, but that's not why you came."

River tilted her head, looking at Rory from the corner of her eye. "Did you happen to check the calendar today?"

"What? Not really. I just got off a 12 hour shift, and then I came home, and…oh."

She smiled then, the smile he'd learned she didn't share with many people. Just with him and Amy, he'd suspected for awhile now, though had never been brave enough to ask.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad," she said, enveloping him in a hug.

* * *

It wasn't as if she could leave after that, so Rory had made tea and they had regrouped in the kitchen with celebratory biscuits.

"I can't believe I forgot it was Father's Day. No wonder Mum called my mobile six times without leaving a message while I was at work." Rory looked down at the phone in his hands. "I'd turned it off. Suppose it's too late to call Dad now."

"He'll understand." She sipped her tea and smiled, clearly remembering some private detail about her grandfather and his capacity for tolerance where his son was concerned.

This time it was Rory's turn to cock his head and look at her strangely. "Oh my God. I never realized until now. Last year – Father's Day. The diner didn't make a mistake with my dinner order – you left that note."

River's brow furrowed, trying to place the reference, before she laughed heartily. "Oh dear, that was just last year for you? No wonder you forgot about today. I was beginning to wonder."

"Do you mean to say that you usually come by on Father's Day?"

She nodded. "I suppose that's a bit of a spoiler, but yes. I haven't missed one yet, or didn't you ever realize that I just happened to pop round this day every year?"

"But you – wait. Mels. You visited me on Father's Day when you were Mels?" Rory's brow furrowed as he tried to recall childhood memories that had likely been so trivial at the time he'd forgotten them almost as soon as they'd happened.

"It wasn't as if I had anyone else to spend it with. Sometimes it was just for a few minutes because you were busy with your family, but yes, I'd find some excuse. Always."

Tears stung the backs of Rory's eyes. How long had it really been for her before he'd known who she was?

"I'm so sorry, River."

"What? No, Rory. You have nothing to be sorry for. There was no way you could have known, and no way you should have either. If you'd even suspected who I really was back then I might not exist at all." She took his hand in hers, and he gripped it tightly.

"I know all that, but still – I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all those years when you didn't have me, and sorrier than you'll ever know that I wasn't there to help you – to protect you – when you needed me most. I think-" he took a deep breath, "I think I must have let myself overlook what today was because I'm still not sure I'm ready to actually think about the kind of dad I actually am – have been - to you."

River bit her lip. He needed her reassurance, but there was more he wanted to say before she could interrupt him.

"Amy still can't, you know? We were here for Mother's Day – we'd just gotten the house, actually, and she just walked around pretending that everything was fine. She talks about you sometimes. Little things, like she wonders if you still like those crisps the market only carries at Christmas, or she's glad she never has to worry that you won't be able to take care of yourself. She never talks about how she feels, though." Rory leaned back in his chair and started at the ceiling.

"Again, spoilers, but she and I will have a conversation quite a bit like this one not long from now. She's not fine, but I wasn't lying at Demon's Run when I told you both that she would be." River sighed. "I wish I could make this easier on you, but it's just going to take some time."

Rory nodded. "Is it strange that part of me sort of wishes we were back to last year? It was less complicated then." He realized too late how cruel his words might have sounded to River. She laughed, though.

"Maybe for you. I still can't believe I told that girl at the diner that the dinner she was boxing up was for my dad. I very nearly caused a paradox because…" she trailed off, the smile sliding from her face.

"Because?"

"Because I missed you. That was the first Father's Day for me you hadn't known who I was. It…it was harder than I'd expected." She looked away, and Rory suspected that she was blinking back tears. He knew he was.

"I think we're back to 'I'm sorry' again," he joked lamely to break the tension.

She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "We do seem to keep having these conversations."

Rory frowned then, remembering more details about the last time they'd had one of 'these conversations.' "River. I – I asked you about your dad that night."

"Do you remember what I said?" Her eyes were still shining, but they were clear now.

"You – you said that he was brave, but not showy. And that you admired him."

"And that he'd always taken care of me. Even when I didn't make it very easy for him. You did, you know, Rory? You always did. You were smaller than I was, and goodness knows I did my best to antagonize you sometimes because I wanted Amy to myself back then, but you always, always looked out for me."

"Funny, I always thought you hated it when I acted all protective back when we were kids. I was such a scrawny little thing. Still am, actually." His smile was self-deprecating, but not without some bitterness.

"Oh, I did, but in the way all kids hate it when their dads embarrass them in front of their friends. Secretly, though, I loved you for it. Remember the time those older boys called you a prat after you told them off for making fun of my jumper?" River smiled at the memory, which was clearly warmer for her than it was for him.

"I felt it too, especially after you wiped the floor with them a few minutes later."

"I didn't do that because they insulted me. I did it because they insulted you."

Rory bit his lip. This whole fatherhood thing was so much more complicated than he'd ever imagined. A couple of his mates had kids now – babies and toddlers mostly – and he'd heard all about the difficulties of midnight feedings, first teeth, and babyproofing. Who could one turn to with war stories about the time one's daughter had beaten up a playground bully a decade ago for calling oneself a prat?

"Do you remember the last thing I told you that night about my dad?" She didn't meet his eye then, just sipped her tea, eyes fixed on the window overlooking the garden.

"I don't think so – I was pretty tired by that point."

"I said that young children all think their fathers hang the stars, but only the most fortunate adults continue to believe it when they're grown. I still believe that about you, Rory."

The tears that had been lurking behind his eyes started to spill over. "I don't really know why."

Now it was River's turn to shed a tear. "How is that possible? Rory, do you remember Demon's Run? I do. Both times, actually. I remember you braving hundreds of Headless Monks to try to keep me safe. I remember you crying the first time you held me, even if it wasn't really me. I remember how you comforted Amy when the Doctor was yelling at me. And I remember that you were the one who took the gun out of her hand and told her to listen to me when I was trying to explain who I was. Rory, even if those were the only memories I had of you, they'd be enough to tell me what kind of father you are. I couldn't have asked for a better one."

Rory stood, and took River into his arms. Together they cried the tears that had never been shed – tears that were partly for sorrow at what they had lost, but also for joy at what they had found.

* * *

The next morning, Amy stumbled downstairs, head pounding slightly from the previous night's celebration. She found her husband and daughter sitting across from one another at the breakfast table, sharing the newspaper and eating toast.

"Did you stay the night, River?" she asked, somewhat taken aback but still pleased at the unexpectedly domestic scene.

"I did," River folded back another page. "Sometimes a girl just wants a late-night chat with her dad."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This fic is for the lovely sablemerle. Thank you for being such a phenomenal cheerleader over the last few months. Happy early birthday!

Father's Day Chapter 3: Generations

"Right, so we'll be back from golf around three, and then off to dinner with Amy's mum and dad at six," Rory glanced up at his father from the note he was writing. "Sound okay?"

"Sounds perfect. Now let's _go_." Brian said, tapping his foot impatiently. Tee time was fast approaching, and Rory was still fiddling with his note to Amy. As if she hadn't been sitting there when they'd made this Father's Day plan last week! And even though he wasn't about to say anything, the chances of their being home by 3:00 were quite slim given that he was fairly certain that his son hadn't touched a club since last year's belated Father's Day game. They'd had to call that one on account of darkness after Rory had irrevocably lost a tenth ball in the rough.

"Okay, I'll just put my clubs in the car and then we'll be-" Rory was interrupted by the doorbell.

"Expecting someone?" Brian asked with an impatient sigh. After last year when his son completely forgotten about Father's Day, he wouldn't have been surprised if Rory had invited his mates over to watch a match.

"No – at least I don't think so – _oh_," and Rory turned an interesting shade of grey as he rushed out of the kitchen and towards the front door, from which Brian could clearly hear sounds indicating that whoever was on the other side was using their own key.

"Hello? Oh, there you are! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten-" said a very polished, very female, very not-Amy voice from the entryway.

Brian's brow furrowed, and he surreptitiously stuck his head out the kitchen door, trying to catch a glimpse of the voice's owner. He'd known about Rory and Amy's marital problems last year – had even known that they'd gone so far as to have papers drawn up – but Rory had assured him that things were good between them now. If that was true, who was this woman, why was she taking such a familiar tone with his son, and why did she have her own key? His worst suspicions were confirmed when she hugged Rory and kissed him on the cheek.

"A-hem!" Brian coughed.

Rory turned even paler, and looked quickly from the very confused woman to Brian and then back again. "Uh, Dad, this is…" he trailed off.

"I'm River," she said, walking briskly towards the kitchen and extending her hand. "And I appear to be a bit early."

* * *

"This is _not_ the plan," Rory hissed into his mobile. "You were supposed to bring her _tomorrow_. Not today, _tomorrow_."

"Well really, Rory, how much of a difference can twenty-four hours actually make? The last time I saw you two, Amy was complaining about how little you see of River these days and now you're moaning that she's there a bit early for her visit. Really, I hope you're not giving her a complex." The Doctor was clearly only half engaged in the conversation, and hadn't heard a word Rory had said beyond, "Doctor, why is River here a day early?"

"It makes quite a bit of difference, actually, when she runs straight into my _Dad_, who then assumes that she's my secret mistress or something."

"He thinks what? Why would Brian assume _that_?" Now he'd caught the Doctor's attention.

"Because he caught her giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek when she walked in the front door, he's never met her before so she obviously can't be an old friend, and we never told him exactly why we were having problems last year. Why _wouldn't_ he assume that she is…what he thinks she is?"

"Honestly, Rory, it's not as if Brian doesn't know about me now. Why can't you just tell him about River? Solve all your problems in one simple conversation!"

"Doctor, it may not have occurred to you that telling my dad that I have a daughter I've never mentioned before who happens to be part-Time Lord, and also happens to be older than I am, and _also_ happens to be a new version of my childhood friend Mels – who he never thought was a terribly good influence on me – might be anything but a 'simple' conversation." Rory sighed heavily. "Can't you just pick her up and drop her back here tomorrow?"

"Ah, no. Sorry. Love to, can't." The Doctor was clearly distracted by something again, and Rory heard the sound of a hand covering the phone's mouthpiece, and a muffled, "No, everything's fine, Dear!"

"She's there, isn't she?" he asked flatly.

"Younger version, yes. So really, I couldn't possibly come get your River at the moment. Paradoxes and all."

Rory pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a truly horrific headache coming on. "And why doesn't she have her vortex manipulator, again?"

"Confiscated by the Stormcage guards. She can steal it back anytime she wants, of course, but thought she'd let them think they'd won a round for a change."

"Great. Just…great."

"Listen, I'm sure everything will be fine. You know River – she's brilliant with people. I'm sure she'll have Brian eating out of the palm of her hand in no time. Oh, and Rory?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Happy Father's Day." and with that, the Doctor (who Rory really tried very hard not to think of as his son-in-law most of the time) hung up on him.

"Great," said Rory again as he turned back toward the lounge. River and his dad. Together. What was the worst that could happen?

Wincing as his headache suddenly intensified, he resolved not to panic.

* * *

River, meanwhile, had apparently thought up a plausible explanation for both her presence and for the very familiar way Brian had seen her greet Rory earlier. Naturally, it was a mixture of the complete truth and carefully edited lies. Much like River herself.

"Oh, hello, Rory. I was just telling your dad here about how I know you and Amy," she grinned.

"Oh?" he hoped his voice didn't sound as strangled to them as it did to him.

"Yes – your dad knows I'm married to the Doctor. You don't need to worry about keeping your travels from him anymore, you know."

"Oh, right. Of course," was all Rory could choke out.

"Again, Brian, I'm so sorry to be intruding on your Father's Day. I was supposed to arrive tomorrow, but you know the Doctor and timely arrivals. Really, I'll just see myself out so you two can get along to your golf game." She stood, and picked up the small bag she'd been carrying, as if to leave.

Rory hated to admit it, but he was secretly relieved that River was excusing herself. It was horrible – she was his daughter, and it was Father's Day, and their whole relationship was confusing and fraught enough without making her feel as if she wasn't welcome on days like today – but he could feel the tension draining from his shoulders as she stood to leave.

"Nonsense, Miss…Mrs…"

"Song. Please just call me River, though, Mr. Williams," she smiled kindly, and Rory recalled that Mels had always been rather fond of his dad. He'd never really understood why. _Oh_. Grandfather. Right.

"Brian, please. Ah, don't you have plans with your dad today, then? Or do they not celebrate Father's Day in the future?" Brian was clearly fishing.

"Oh," she looked at Rory for a moment before barreling ahead. "No. My father and I... well, it's complicated."

The look on Brian's face told Rory that he wasn't going to let River leave. "Tell me, River, do you golf?"

This was going to be a very unusual Father's Day.

Actually, given the trajectory of his life, it really wasn't.

* * *

River and Brian were doubled-over laughing by the third hole when Rory managed to get his ball out of the sand trap only long enough to send it sailing into the middle of the pond.

"I hate golf," Rory muttered under his breath as he began the trudge back to where they were waiting. River, unsurprisingly, had proved to be brilliant at the game, and had engaged Brian in an involved discussion about titanium clubs that left Rory feeling more than a bit like a third wheel.

"Don't worry, Rory! Plenty of balls left in the pack! I picked up some extras just for you!" Brian called out as he and River dissolved into another fit of giggles.

As he trudged back up the green, Rory had to admit that, his ability to hit the ball in the direction of the hole aside, the day was going exceptionally well. He wasn't even sure why he'd been so anxious to begin with. River was used to lying about who she was to everyone – even to him, Amy, and the Doctor in the beginning – and he'd never known her to slip up before. His dad had no trouble believing that she was nothing more (or less) than the Doctor's wife, and thus someone he and Amy had gotten to know very well during the time they spent traveling with him.

"Rory, I was just telling your dad here about the time we went to 1969," River said with a smile. Rory blanched. He hoped she'd been telling the highly edited version.

"Did you actually meet President Nixon?" Brian turned to Rory eagerly. He'd always been a bit of a history buff, and Rory smiled in spite of himself at the memory of the former President.

"We did. He asked the Doctor how history would remember him, and the Doctor asked him to say hello to David Frost," River was grinning too. Rory was surprised at how quickly a fond memory of that otherwise terrifying time had sprung to mind.

Another memory from those months came abruptly to mind. While he'd been running from the Silence in New Mexico, River had tracked him down and made a point of visiting him on Father's Day. Demon's Run had happened only a few months later. That had been…eight years ago. He'd been a father for eight years. The thought was sobering.

Brian was far from oblivious, and picked up on the abrupt shift in Rory's mood. "Not all fun and games, I take it?"

River, surprisingly, was the one who answered. "Not exactly. But Rory was brilliant." She paused, and looked searchingly at Rory for a long moment before drawing in a deep breath and continuing. "We actually started a bit of a tradition during that trip, he and I. I happened to run into him on Father's Day that year, and he told me a bit about you. I suppose I was feeling nostalgic today, which is probably why I brought the TARDIS here a day early."

"Wait, you were piloting it?" Rory asked. The Doctor frequently over- or under-shot dates. River, to his knowledge, never did.

"Could have been," she replied. "You know, Rory told me a bit about you back then, Brian," she said. If Rory hadn't known her as well as he did, he would have characterized her tone as 'casual.' There was an almost-suppressed tension there, though, that he recognized well after so many years.

"Did he?" Brian was intrigued. "I don't suppose he mentioned the time I came in four under par on this course?"

River smiled fondly. "Not quite, no. He did tell me that I'd like you – that everyone likes you. And do you know what? He was right."

Brian smiled fondly at her, and Rory felt tears spring to his eyes. River liked his dad – loved him – he'd known that since she was Mels. But his dad genuinely liked her too. They had more in common than he knew, and seeing them together, silhouetted against the glare of the afternoon light, Rory realized just how much River resembled her grandfather. The nose, the color of their hair, even the way they both cocked their heads when they were listening intently to someone, it was all the same. He'd always been under the impression that regeneration didn't take family resemblance into account, but this… It couldn't be just coincidence.

His father and his daughter together. Today, of all days. It wasn't supposed to have happened, and it almost certainly wouldn't happen again. But for these few hours, Rory could be with both of them, and could watch them bond as they should have from the beginning.

If Amy hadn't made him swear never to tell their parents about River, Rory would have told his dad everything at that very moment. She had, though, and he knew that explaining the truth would only lead to questions he wasn't ready to answer. Questions he feared Amy would never be willing to discuss. So instead he cleared his throat and played the fool.

"Dad, don't suppose you could loan me a new ball? I seem to be out."

Brian looked away from River, and the two of them laughed again. "Of course, son. And let's get a move on! We only have another hour before dinner, and four more holes to play."

As his dad turned his attention to the pockets of his golf bag, River met Rory's gaze. "I'm sorry," she mouthed.

"Don't be," he mouthed back. "This was perfect."

* * *

River excused herself in earnest when Brian invited her to join the whole family for dinner.

"I'd love to, truly, Brian, but I can't continue to intrude. Plus, what would we tell Amy's parents? Thank you so much for including me in your golf game today, though. The Doctor has refused to take me ever since I beat him during the Master's Tournament of 4679, and I'd missed playing. Rory," she turned to him and smiled fondly, "say hello to Amy for me, will you?"

Rory wished he could tell her what the day had meant to him. He'd try tomorrow, of course, but by then the moment would have passed and the words wouldn't mean as much.

"Of course, River. Will you be okay tonight?" They both knew that River would spend the night in the guest room Amy very carefully never referred to as hers (but where no one else had ever slept) but in front of Brian they still needed to be a bit circumspect.

"I always am," she winked. "Lovely meeting you, Brian. I hope we cross paths again very soon," she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Rory saw a flash of wistful longing cross her face before the mask settled back into place.

"And you too, River. Tell the Doctor I haven't forgotten about his invitation. I won't always be watering plants, you know." Brian grinned. "Shall we, Rory?"

"Sure thing, Dad," Rory reached out and hugged River. "Thank you," he whispered low enough that Brian almost certainly wouldn't hear. "I don't know how you knew, but thank you."

"Anytime, Dad," she whispered back.


	4. Goodbyes

A/N: Once again, I must give credit to the lovely Sablemerle and Allyrien, whose comments to Chapter 3 started the plot bunnies rolling again. Every time I add to this fic I'm certain it's the last chapter, and every time I get a new idea almost as soon as I hit "publish." That said, after the events of "The Angels Take Manhattan" I'm fairly certain this will be it.

FULL SPOILERS THROUGH "THE ANGELS TAKE MANHATTAN"

* * *

Father's Day Chapter 4: Goodbyes

Of course it was raining.

River stood outside the blue door and closed her umbrella. She wanted to feel the rain in her hair, wanted it to hide the tears she knew were imminent.

They weren't there.

It was Father's Day, and for the first time since she had met her parents as Mels, she wasn't going to see her dad. River hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye before Rory had vanished, and now she wasn't ever going to see him again.

River considered letting herself inside. She had a key, after all, and the rain was coming down quite hard now. The thought of going inside to that quiet, empty house filled her with such crushing loneliness that her breath came short.

No, going in wasn't an option.

For a moment her hand hovered over her vortex manipulator. She could go anywhere in the universe at any point in history – if she chose not to deal with this right now, she didn't have to.

But where would she go? There wasn't a single place or time she could run to that would take away the ache in her hearts.

And then it hit her. She wasn't the only one who was grieving today. There was someone else for whom Father's Day was never going to be the same, and if she wasn't going to deal with her own pain she could possibly help him deal with his. If he let her.

Opening up her umbrella, River once again took refuge from the rain. There would come a day soon when she would allow herself to drown in her sorrows for a bit. Today was not that day.

* * *

Her first thought was that Brian looked terrible. Her second was that she was surprised he didn't slam the door in her face when he realized who she was.

"It's River, isn't it? River…Song?" he squinted as he searched his memory for her name, and River's breath caught again as she saw Rory's own confused expression reflected in his father's face. Suddenly she wasn't so sure that this had been a good idea.

"Yes. How…how are you, Brian?"

"I'm – well - I am. That's about all I can be at the moment, I suppose." He attempted a smile, and then realized that she was still standing in the rain. "Beg pardon, please come in. You must be freezing."

"Thank you," she murmured, shaking out her umbrella before walking carefully inside. She'd been in the house many times before, back when she, Rory, and Amy were children. Back then the entryway had always been full of a mixture of tennis shoes on the floor, crayon drawings taped to the walls, and an improbable number of coats for the few people who lived inside. The clutter had been a cheerful, if chaotic, reminder that this was a family home. Now it seemed bare and dreary, with fresh paint and a solitary raincoat hung on the row of pegs next to the door.

He held out his hands for her coat, and she felt a bit better seeing it next to his. Two was better than one on a day like today.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked, clearly perking up now and showing more energy than she would have thought possible a few minutes earlier.

"Love some," she replied, and followed him into the kitchen.

An awkward silence fell after Brian settled down across from River at the kitchen table, tea in hand. Clearly, neither one of them wanted to be the first to mention Rory and Amy.

"I thought-" he began just as she said, "So, I was wondering-"

They both laughed tensely. "Please, ladies first," said Brian, gesturing for her to go ahead with her thought.

"Sorry, I was just going to say that I was in the neighborhood and wanted to know how you were doing. Today…well, I know it can't be an easy day for you."

Brian smiled, but it didn't come close to reaching his eyes. "I was going to say that I thought you'd be with the Doctor today. Don't see that you'd have much reason to come back here after…" he trailed off. "Is he meeting you nearby, then?"

River shook her head slowly. "No. I don't think he knows I'm here. We… well, we don't always travel together. I'm not sure what Rory told you about us," she stopped, suddenly aware that she'd broken the unspoken rule of this conversation: don't say either of their names aloud.

If Brian minded, he didn't let on. "He did say something once about how you didn't always meet one another in order. That he always had to be careful what he said to you because he couldn't always be sure his memories matched yours – that you hadn't always experienced the same things he had." He shook his head. "Bit beyond my depth, I'm afraid."

"No, that pretty much sums it up," she said. "I have met you before, though. Last year on Father's Day. We played golf."

Brian's eyes lit up. "You hit that amazing shot on the fifth hole – I've never seen anyone come in four under par on that one. Bragged about you for months to my friends, you know."

River smiled then, a real smile. Brian had told his friends about her, almost like he was telling a story about, well, about his granddaughter.

She supposed that she could tell him who she was now. None of them had ever said anything about her real identity to Brian before, more out of consideration for Amy's still-conflicted feelings on that particular intersection of her real life and her Doctor life (River had always fallen into the latter category, which was a dicey subject in and of itself) than out of concern that he couldn't deal with the truth. Amy wasn't coming back, though.

She could tell him, but almost immediately River knew that she wouldn't. Bad enough that Brian had lost a son and daughter-in-law. Some might have seen it as gaining a granddaughter, but River suspected that the grief of missing so many years of her life (plus the inevitable questions about why he'd never known about Amy's pregnancy, where River had been all those years, and where she was living now) would outweigh the joy he'd feel at the news.

"That's actually why I'm here today," River said, deciding to confront the issue head-on. "I know this is probably not a very pleasant day for you, and I thought we might go somewhere to take your mind off of things."

Brian's brow furrowed. "It's a bit damp for a game, but the course is probably open. I could call-"

River shook her head. "Actually, I had something a bit drier in mind."

* * *

River and Brian stood on the top of a hill overlooking a vast desert valley. All around them, teams of archaeologists were excavating an ancient Tynerian city, once home to the most powerful ruler the planet had ever seen. Well, at least at this point in history.

"So we're actually on another planet in another _time_?" Brian asked, wonder filling his eyes as they raked across the landscape. "I've been in space before, but this…this is incredible!"

River grinned. She'd had a feeling he would enjoy this kind of adventure.

"Are you sure we're not intruding?" he asked, glancing around at the experts who were starting to look at them with some interest.

"I certainly hope not – it's my dig," she said, not bothering to conceal her pride. She'd been the assistant leader on any number of excavations in the past, but this was her first major dig as the lead archaeologist.

A man in a dusty brown jacket and wide-brimmed hat walked purposefully toward them, a smile on his face as he recognized River. "Professor Song! Thought you'd gotten tired of the dirt and bad food and gone on holiday!"

She laughed, "Hardly, Nathan. I just took a quick trip to pick up a friend. Thought I'd show him the site."

"Nathan Maxwell," the man proffered a hand to Brian. "I'm one of Professor Song's students."

"Brian Williams," he replied, shaking the hand briskly. "I'm – Brian." He glanced uncertainly at River before plunging ahead. "Looks like quite a large operation you have going here."

Nathan nodded enthusiastically. "Twelve major civic buildings and twice as many residences uncovered so far. We'll probably be back here for the next three or four seasons just cataloging it all."

Brian shook his head. "Incredible."

"Thank you, Nathan. I'm going to give Brian the tour, if you don't mind. Please let Professor Glaxius know that I'm back."

She placed a hand at the small of Brian's back and gestured toward the far end of the site. "This way, Brian."

River pointed out various spots that she thought Brian would find interesting while they walked through a series of tents shading small teams of workers who were slowly uncovering the buried city. Before long, though, they left the excavation zone and headed out into the open desert. They walked for several minutes more in companionable silence, Brian twisting his head this way and that in an effort to see absolutely everything. The walk wasn't a short one, however, and the silence grew heavier and heavier as they moved further away from the others. River wondered if she should say something, but decided to let Brian take the lead. She wasn't expecting what came out of his mouth as they crested the top of the hillside and started down toward a small depression in the landscape.

"Why today? Why Father's Day?"

River froze.

"You're a lovely woman, and I can see why you and my son became quite attached to one another, but last year you mentioned that you always visited him on Father's Day? Bit of an odd tradition, that, for two people who were just traveling companions."

He knew who she was. River had no idea how he knew, but she was suddenly utterly convinced that he did.

"Oh, look," she stopped abruptly. "Here we are."

"Where?"

"Where we dig." River pulled two handheld shovels from her shoulder bag and offered one to Brian.

"No need – have my own, actually," he smiled, pulling his trowel from a jacket pocket.

* * *

Two hours later, they had discarded the trowels and exchanged them for soft brushes with which they carefully swept debris from the blue and gold mosaic they had begun to uncover. River paused periodically to paint a clear liquid over each tile as they were slowly revealed ("To preserve the pigment" she explained). The work wasn't difficult so much as engrossing, and as she and Brian carefully uncovered something no one had seen for at least a millennium, River found herself feeling more at peace than she had since before Manhattan.

"Rory never told me you were an archaeologist," Brian said abruptly. "And a professor?"

"It's still fairly new," she explained, pausing to brush away dust from another few square inches of tile. "Not the archaeology bit, but…it took me awhile to get back into academia after I graduated."

"Oh?" he asked in that leading, fatherly way she remembered so well from her childhood.

She paused. How much to divulge? What would Rory have wanted her to say?

The thought made her hearts twinge painfully. She remembered Rory's deer-in-the-headlights look when he realized that she and Brian were going to spend the day together last year. She'd done it on purpose, of course, selfishly wanting to "meet" her grandfather as an adult. Really, she'd just wanted him to meet her. She hadn't counted on the look of true fear that had crossed her father's face as he contemplated the ways in which the day could go horribly, horribly wrong.

It hadn't, though. It had been wonderful, and she had no regrets, particularly as it had been her last Father's Day with him. Not that she'd known it at the time.

"River?" Brian asked, concerned at how long she was taking to respond.

"Yes, sorry – woolgathering. Ah, well, it's a bit difficult to land university appointments when you're traveling with the Doctor. His lifestyle doesn't exactly make one known for reliability."

Brian nodded sadly. "Rory and Amy – they only had regular careers those last couple of years." He suddenly became fascinated by the dirt at his feet, and River watched as two tears splashed in the dust next to his boots.

"Brian – do you know what happened to them?" She was fairly certain he knew. The Doctor had promised he was going to visit and tell him in person. River had left him at that point, unable to face her grief-stricken grandfather.

"Yes, the Doctor came. He…" Brian trailed off, sniffed loudly, and wiped a handkerchief across his face. "He told me they had been displaced in time. In America. Thought they'd gone back over a hundred years, but he couldn't be sure. He said…" again, a pause, and she saw tears well in his eyes. "He said they were together. That Rory was taken, and Amy chose to go with him. She – she didn't want my boy to be alone." At that he started to sob, and so did River.

Neither one had gotten the chance to say goodbye.

* * *

Hours later, feeling a catharsis none of the breakdowns she'd had over her parents' fate had given her in the weeks and months since she'd lost them, River and Brian arrived back in Leadworth.

The rain had stopped.

"Will you come in?" he asked. His tone was slightly hopeful, but she could see in his eyes that he wanted to be alone.

"No, thank you. I really should get back to my dig. Brian – there was something I wanted to ask you earlier."

"Yes?" his brow furrowed.

"Did the Doctor tell you…did he tell you about the book? My book?"

Brian shook his head. "You wrote a book? Congratulations." He clearly didn't see what any of this had to do with him or Rory.

"It's not just any book. It's…well, it's a book about what happened to Rory and Amy. I had to write it now so they could find it then, and, well, it's complicated."

Brian's expression had turned wary.

"In any case, I've written it, and now I just need to get to the correct time zone to send it to Amy so she can have it published." She knew the question he was going to ask next, and didn't relish the answer she was going to have to give.

"But, if you can send her a book, can't you just go to both of them and-" his eyes lit up with the kind of hope she knew he hadn't felt in months.

"No. I'm so sorry, Brian, but it doesn't work that way. Just to get the manuscript to Amy I have to circumvent a time lock on both of them. I send it to a contact I have to make at the mailroom of publishing house where she works. They'll send it to her assistant, who will give it to her. In no way can I interact with either of them directly." River held out her diary to Brian. It was open to one of the very last blank pages. "I'm going to ask her to write a note to the Doctor – something for him to read when they're gone. And I thought, while I was doing that, I might include something from you as well. That is, if you like."

Brian stood there for a moment, stunned. Then he slowly nodded and held out his hand for the diary. "Can I have a few minutes?"

"Take all the time you need," she reassured him.

Brian took longer than a few minutes.

They'd moved into house, and he bent over the blue book, painstakingly crafting every word, clearly struggling to say everything he ever wanted to tell his only son in just a few brief lines.

Finally, though, he was finished. River marked the page, more for Brian's benefit than her own, and held out her hand to shake his goodbye. Instead, she found herself pulled into the warmest, fiercest, most desperate hug she'd ever felt. She hugged back just as strongly. They weren't only embracing one another, they were holding on to Rory. This was as close to a final farewell with him as either of them would ever get.

"I don't understand…" Brian began when they finally released one another. "Who you are… I just don't-"

"You don't have to. He did." River smiled, and squeezed Brian's hand. "Goodbye. I'll see you next year."

* * *

Afterward

Dear Dad,

We didn't get a chance to say goodbye, and now that I sit down to write this note to you, I find that I have no desire to do so. Instead, I think I'll choose to once again avoid the subject. Call it 'spoilers' if you like.

I am a happy woman – happy in the knowledge that I had the chance to know you and Amy so well and for so long, happy in the life I have chosen for myself, and happy in the knowledge that my future awaits.

I've seen your dad – he's coping. I promise to continue visiting him for as long as I'm able. There's a note from him attached to this one.

Please give Mum a kiss for me. Tell her I'm taking care of the Doctor, but that she should have known better than to tell me to be a good girl. Let her know that I've stayed out of prison – so far.

Happy Father's Day.

Love Always,

Your Daughter


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, yes, I am once again making a liar out of myself. The minute I saw a still of Arthur Darvill recording the voiceover for "P.S." I suspected another chapter of "Father's Day" would be necessary, and sure enough, the plot bunnies attacked. If you haven't seen "P.S." yet, it's available at the BBC One website.

* * *

Chapter 5: Siblings

_Last year_, River thought, _it was raining_.

As she stood outside Brian Williams' door, River considered the possibility that the weather was trying to tell her something. The last time she'd seen her grandfather it had been their first meeting since losing Amy and Rory. Father's Day had always been bittersweet for her - even after she'd finally been able to tell Rory who she really was. Experiencing the day without him for the first time had been emotionally draining, and the rain had felt only appropriate. Today, however, the sun was shining, and an unfamiliar car was parked on the street.

She couldn't be certain until she rang the bell, but River had a pretty good idea of whose car it was.

"This was so much easier back when I was the only one with secrets," she muttered under her breath as she raised her hand to ring the bell.

* * *

Brian had been waiting for the bell to ring. He'd been anxious all morning, spilling tea and burning toast, but when Anthony had asked if anything was wrong he'd merely brushed off the question. When the buzzer finally sounded, he knocked over his chair in a rush to get to the door. Anthony didn't follow - if the person on the other side of that door was who he suspected, she would come to him.

"You came," he heard his grandfather say faintly from the entryway, and a soft feminine laugh followed.

"Of course I came. Don't I always?" the voices grew louder - they were headed toward the kitchen.

Anthony Williams was not an anxious man by nature. The secrets this house now held had been with him since he was a boy. He'd grown up with the knowledge that his family wasn't traditional in any sense of the word. Today, he reminded himself firmly, was just another case-in-point. Besides which, Dad wouldn't have panicked at a time like this and neither would he.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Brian said, stepping into the kitchen again. Anthony stood. This was it, the moment he'd been waiting over sixty years for.

The woman who followed his grandfather looked exactly like his parents had always described her. Riotously curling hair, a knowing smile on her lips, eyes that danced, and incongruously formal clothing.

"Anthony, this is Dr. River Song." She held out her hand for him to shake, and for a brief moment Anthony wasn't certain she knew who he was. The tears he saw fill her eyes assured him that she most certainly did, though, and as the siblings clasped hands for the first time, he felt the prickling of his own.

"It's very nice to meet you, Anthony," she said. He was impressed by how steady she managed to keep her voice. He wasn't sure he could trust his own.

"River, do - do you know who he is?" Brian looked from one to the other uncertainly.

"I'm an archaeologist, Brian," she reminded him gently. "I know my way around a library. Anthony Brian Williams, born March 15, 1946. Adopted by Rory and Amy Williams March 23 of that same year. You're a teacher, I believe."

Anthony nodded and cleared his throat. "Dr. River Song: archaeologist, time traveler, and sometimes savior of the universe. You weren't in any libraries I ever saw, but I've heard stories about you for as long as I can remember. I don't think a day went by when Mom and Dad didn't mention you."

Brian's grin interrupted them both. "Splendid! And to think I was worried that we'd be spending the day making awkward explanations to one another. Well then, what shall we do?"

Anthony and River exchanged a look as Brian poured himself a new cup of tea. It was going to be an interesting day.

* * *

"Good shot, Brian!" River exclaimed, watching as Brian's ball sailed toward the green. As she lined up her own shot, she made a point of catching Anthony's eye. She winked, and hit the ball deliberately into the rough.

"Ouch! Nasty bit of business that'll be to get it out," Brian squinted. "You're usually a much better shot than that, River."

"Haven't been out for awhile - it's been a busy few months. Anthony, I believe it's your turn."

Anthony tightened his grip on his club. Golf had never really been his game, and he hoped he'd have enough control over the ball to get it reasonably close to River's. There were things they needed to discuss without Brian present, and this would be the perfect opportunity. Taking a deep breath he swung.

"Out of practice too, Anthony?" he heard his grandfather ask, and Anthony hoped his smile looked sheepish instead of guilty.

"A bit, yes. I've always been more of a tennis man, actually."

Brian shook his head. "Well, it's hardly a surprise. Do you remember the last time we were here, River? Rory lost three balls to the rough, one to the pond, and spent at least half an hour in the sand trap at the fourth hole. Like father, like son," He grinned broadly, and Anthony smiled in return to see his grandfather able to say his dad's name without looking as if his heart might break.

River smiled too, fondly at the memory "We were here until nightfall. Bless. Well, Brian, I think it's safe to say that it might take a few minutes for Anthony and I to get back to the green. Shall we meet you there?"

"Excellent idea," he began to re-pack his golf bag. "There's a drinks stand not too far off - I'll get us some waters."

"Ready?" she asked, turning to Anthony. He nodded. He'd been ready for this conversation for as long as he could remember.

* * *

"What did they tell you about me?" she asked as soon as they were out of Brian's earshot.

"The truth, once I was old enough to understand it. I know that you were born Melody Pond at a place called Demon's Run. That an alien religious order called the Silence kidnapped Mom after she got pregnant and created a double of her so she'd think she was on the TARDIS when she was actually sedated and held captive so they could take you after you were born. I know the Doctor tried to save you, but he was too late. I know you grew up with them - they were never really clear about how you got to Leadworth, though - and were called Mels Zucker. I know you tried to kill the Doctor once, and then gave your remaining regenerations to save his life. I know you married him, and were put in prison for killing him. He wasn't dead, but you stayed there so everyone would think he was. I know you saved their lives more than once, and that they loved you very, very much." Anthony had kept his eyes on the grass while he talked, but looked up to meet hers just as he finished.

River was looking back at him. "Yes, that just about covers it."

"How-" Anthony broke off. The question had been on the tip of his tongue since he'd first laid eyes on her, but now he was having trouble asking it. "How long have you know about me?"

"Not long." They had reached the rough now, and River took a deep breath as their pace slowed and stopped. "I made a point of not looking for them in history before... well, before Manhattan and the Angels. That was less than two years ago for me. Afterwards... well, it took awhile before I was ready to find out what happened to them. I didn't know about you the last time I visited Brian."

Anthony nodded slowly. From her perspective, the loss of their parents was still new enough to be raw. From his, they'd both been gone long enough for injury of grief to have mostly scarred over. He could think of them - talk about them - without feeling a painful twinge under his breastbone. He could tell she was still struggling to do the same.

"I wondered if you'd come to see me after Mom died," he said. "It makes sense now why you didn't. You didn't know then."

River shook her head. "I'm a time traveler, Anthony. And... well, a bit of a coward if you want to know the truth. I thought about going there, after I knew Amy had... the time lock around them was broken, I could have made the trip. I suppose I decided to come here instead because I thought it would be easier to meet you with Brian around."

Anthony decided to leave her comment about being a coward alone for the time being. "Speaking of, what do you want to tell him?"

"About what?" she looked genuinely confused.

"About you - me - that you're not just Mom and Dad's time traveling friend, you're also their daughter. My sister."

And there it was. The word neither of them had spoken up until this point. Sister. She was his sister. He was her brother. A lump rose in Anthony's throat, and he struggled to speak past it. "He should know, River. It's the right thing to do. You know it is."

A beat, and then River opened her mouth to respond. "Oh look, my ball," she pointed at a spot several feet away and started off towards it. Anthony, dumbfounded, stood in place for a moment, staring at the empty space where River had just been. "I think I see yours too," she called back to him.

"River!" he exclaimed, not bothering to keep his voice low in case Brian was nearby.

"Look, Anthony," her voice was quiet and soothing, but there was an undercurrent of steel there as well. "It's not that simple. Brian has known me for years. How am I supposed to explain to him that all this time I've been his granddaughter and never said a word? How do I tell him that Rory lied to him - for _years_? It would break his heart. No, it's better for everyone that I stay a somewhat enigmatic but very dear friend who also happens to be one of three other people in the universe who knows what really happened to his son and daughter-in-law."

Anthony shook his head, incredulous. A small voice in the back of his mind (a voice which sounded suspiciously like his mother) spoke up with a reminder that they had warned him that River kept secrets from everyone, and it was usually best to let her come forward with the truth in her own time. A louder voice argued that it was ridiculous to hang onto a secret this huge when telling it could only bring happiness to everyone involved.

"I don't agree," he said shortly. "I know this is how you live, but it's not right. Not now. He deserves to know."

"Anthony," she took his hand in her own. "I don't want to argue with you, but this isn't up for debate. Our parents," she took a sharp breath at "our" and Anthony suddenly realized that she was feeling just as overwhelmed by the day's events as he was. "Amy and Rory - they didn't want to tell him about me. The Doctor is the only other person alive who knows who I really am. That was their choice to make, not mine. I happen to think that it's the right one to keep making now, under the circumstances, but ultimately their wishes are the ones I'm honoring by letting Brian continue to think that I'm just a friend."

"That's not true," he said sharply. "You don't know the whole story, River. I do. They regretted keeping the secret. Dad talked about it whenever he mentioned either of you. 'We should have told him,' is exactly how he put it. I heard that for years, River. Yes, when you knew them they'd made the choice to keep you from him, but they changed their minds."

"Brian's going to come looking for us. We need to get back onto the course before he does." She turned, pulled a club out of her bag, and began to line up a shot.

"River!" he protested again. "Why won't you discuss this? If it was you, wouldn't you want to know?"

She didn't reply, but merely swung at the ball, easily sending it sailing back onto the green. Without a word, she slung her bag back onto her shoulder and started off after it.

* * *

"So, care to tell me what happened back there?" Brian asked Anthony after River had excused herself to the ladies room. They were perusing the menu at the club restaurant after a tense and mostly silent remainder of the golf game.

"Back where?" Anthony asked, trying to sound casual.

"Back on the rough. You and River went down there together and clearly got into some kind of argument. You didn't say two words to one another for the next six holes - did you think I wouldn't notice? What happened, Anthony?"

"It's... it's complicated. There were... things... I needed to ask her. Things about Mom and Dad. We had a difference of opinion, that's all. Please don't let it spoil your day." Anthony took the younger man's hand and smiled. "It's Father's Day. Don't worry about me and River - let's focus on celebrating you and Dad like we should."

"Yes, let's," said River, sliding into her seat next to Anthony. He hadn't even realized she was back. "I took the liberty of ordering some champagne." A waiter filled three flutes.

"To Brian Williams, a fantastic grandfather," she said, raising her glass. Anthony followed suit without a word. An odd expression settled onto Brian's face as he raised his own glass and tapped it lightly against theirs. And suddenly, Anthony understood. Brian knew. Neither his dad nor River had ever said a word, but Brian knew.

"And to Rory Williams, an equally fantastic father," Antony found himself saying as he looked River straight in the eye. "In every era."

They tapped glasses again and drank.

* * *

"Will you be staying?" Anthony asked River quietly as they sat together at Brian's kitchen table later that night. He'd gone up to bed, but had encouraged them to "have a nice chat."

"No. I used to stay-" she paused, then took a deep breath, "with Mum and Dad sometimes, but never with Brian. You'll be around for a few more days at least, though?"

"Yes, my flight back to New York doesn't leave until next Tuesday. Granddad is going to show me around town, and then we're heading to London for a few days. I've never been." He watched River out of the corner of his eye. "Where are you off to, then?"

"Home," she said simply.

"And where is that? The TARDIS?"

She smiled. "No, not usually. I have a house near the university. Luna University," she clarified. "Around three thousand years from now. I'm a professor there."

He nodded. "Do you like it?"

She smiled. It was the same fond smile she'd had when she was talking to Brian. "I do. Very much. And of course I'm not always there."

"The Doctor. I've never met him."

River shifted in her seat and looked him in the eye. "I don't know that you ever will, Anthony. He does know about you, and believe me when I say that he was more delighted than words can express when we realized that Amy and Rory had finally become parents. Real parents. But I think he's hesitant to meet you, only because he doesn't want to interfere in your life."

Anthony nodded. "It's all right. To be honest, he always sort of scared me when I was growing up. A time traveling alien who eats fish sticks and pudding?"

River laughed then, loudly enough that for a minute Anthony was worried she might have woken Brian. "Oh, he is going to _love_ that."

"The truth is, River, the only people from my parents' past lives I was ever really interested in meeting were you and Granddad."

Her expression turned serious again. "The feeling is mutual, Anthony. I'm sorry about earlier. It's just that-"

"He already knows, doesn't he?" Anthony took her hand. "I could tell in the restaurant. He knows who you are."

"I'm not certain, but yes, I think he suspects." She rubbed a hand across her eyes, and Anthony was suddenly struck by the realization that in spite of the fact that she looked at least twenty years his junior, she was almost certainly several hundred years older than he was. _Big sister, indeed_, he thought to himself.

"So why not just tell him?"

She shook her head. "If I do, it means I also have to tell him where I was all those years. If I tell him that I'm his granddaughter he's going to have questions. I could lie, but if he asks I really don't think I have the will to keep the truth from him even though I know the answers will be very painful for him to hear. I don't know that either of us is ready for that. Maybe in the future, but not now."

"I still don't agree, but the decision is yours to make."

They sat in silence for a few minutes more.

"We did this once, Dad and me," she said simply. "It was right after they'd thought the Doctor died – right after we were married from their perspective – and I came on Father's Day to visit. We wound up getting drunk in the garden, and after he put Mum to bed he and I just sat in the kitchen and talked for hours."

Anthony smiled. "We did that too. Not, obviously, under the same circumstances, but the late-night talks in the kitchen. I remember once when I was in college I came home in the middle of the night. I went to NYU, so they were close enough to visit whenever I wanted or needed them. Anyway, I came home around two in the morning – I don't remember exactly why, just that it was a bad week and I think I needed the comfort of home – and there he was. It was almost like he was waiting for me. He didn't ask questions or push me to explain why I was there, he just made me a cup of tea and we talked about nothing for hours.

"Tell me about him?" River asked quietly.

And he did.

* * *

Brian crept down the corridor as quietly as he could. He didn't mean to eavesdrop – well, actually he did, and they were talking too softly for him to hear the conversation from the top of the stairs.

"He already knows, doesn't he?" he overheard Anthony ask.

Tears of mingled joy and sorrow began to flow from Brian Williams' eyes as he listened to his grandchildren begin the process of bonding with one another.

He loved them, and so he would let them keep their secrets because at the end of the day the things they said to him weren't what mattered. What mattered was that they came to terms with each other. Like all brothers and sisters, they needed to work out their differences on their own.

It wasn't a perfect Father's Day. It wasn't a perfect family. But it was his. A photograph of Rory and Amy on their wedding day caught his eye. _You did well, son_, he thought. He turned and tiptoed back upstairs.


End file.
